Death of Cupids (The Blood of Cupids MC)

by Sophia Kenzie

  Grace

  “It’s my house.” Anne Marie stared at her ringing phone.

  “Answer it.”

  It had been two hours since Ryan had left, and I hadn’t yet heard anything from him. Although I was worried, I didn’t let it on. I didn’t need the already frantic woman sitting on my couch to have any more reason for concern.

  The phone rang again. A part of me didn’t want her to answer. I didn’t know who was on the other line. I wasn’t ready for it to be Sean. I wasn’t ready for more of his demands.

  She let it ring twice more before she brought it to her ear. She took a deep breath before she stuttered. “H-Hello?” Then I saw relief cover her face. “Joseph? Joseph? You’re okay? You’re home? I did what he asked.”

  “Put the phone on speaker.” I mouthed to her. I wanted to get a feel of the situation for myself. It didn’t make sense to me that Sean would let the kids go that easily. It wasn’t his style.

  “Hold on baby. I’m with the woman right now. I’m just putting you on speaker phone.” She set the phone on the table, allowing me to join the conversation. “Baby, can you hear me? Is your sister there too?”

  “Yes, mom. I’m here.” The girl sounded a little shaken up, but for the most part, okay.

  “Are you guys…? Did he hurt you?”

  Joseph’s deep voice answered her question. “No, we’re fine. We’re home.”

  “Okay, you stay right there. Don’t let anyone in. I’ll be right there. I love you guys.”

  She was full on sobbing by the time she hung up the phone. “We have to go.”

  “Wait.” I stopped her. “This might be a trap.”

  “I don’t care.”

  I tried to stall her as I quickly weighed any other options we might have. “We should wait for Ryan.”

  “I don’t give a shit if you want to wait for Ryan. I have been worried sick about my children, and I need to make sure they’re okay.”

  “Okay.” There wasn’t much more I could say; she was right. Although they said they were fine, she needed to see for herself that her children were safe.

  Ryan had taken the car, so we hailed a cab when we reached the curb. She spat the address at the driver, and within ten minutes, we were running up the steps to her townhouse.

  I looked around at the quiet city side street. How long had she lived this close to Ryan without telling him? How many times had they walked down the same city block? How many times had they ended up in the same crowd of people?

  I sent a quick text to Ryan, letting him know what had happened and the address where he should meet us. I pressed ‘send’, and followed Anne Marie Carter into her home.

  It was a beautiful old townhouse, very similar to Ryan’s, actually. The colors were softer with splashes of yellows with periwinkle accents making up the foyer. The staircase had been carpeted, and the window treatments more feminine, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if Anne Marie had been the one to decorate both homes. There was a certain style from which she hadn’t strayed, even if she had tried.

  “Joseph? Sarah?” She called, her voice strained.

  “Mom!” I heard as two teenagers came barreling down the steps.

  Anne Marie’s hand came to her mouth as she waited for them to fly into her arms. After the necessary hugs and assurances of survival, introductions commenced. Joseph, about eighteen, looked strikingly similar to Ryan. He was a little shorter and his hair was a little lighter, but there was no doubt that they were brothers. I had this weird feeling of being drawn to him because of his likeness to my husband. I actually had to stop myself from throwing my arms around him. Sarah, his twin sister, still looked akin to a helpless child. She had an element of innocence to her that the rest of the family lacked. Her porcelain skin offered a sharp contrast to her shining emerald eyes. They were the same color as her mother’s, as Ryan’s. She had this sort of calmness about her, like she never had to fight for anything in her life. I prayed Sean didn’t try to take that beauty from her.

  The kids assured their mother that they weren’t harmed over the five days they had gone missing. Joseph explained that they were leaving school when a man in his mid twenties came up behind them and inconspicuously put a gun up to Sarah’s back. He told them to not make any sudden movements or he’d shoot. He then led them to a van, where he put black canvas bags over their heads. After giving a detailed description of the man who held the gun to Sarah’s back, I was fully convinced that Danny was back in the picture. They told us there was someone else driving the van, but neither of them could see what he looked like.

  “The next five days we were in some sort of basement, but it had couches and a bathroom and they fed us.” Sarah jumped in, adding to the story.

  Anne Marie was weeping. “You two are so brave. I can’t even… I can’t imagine what you must have been thinking.”

  She grabbed her children, bringing them into another hug. I wondered if she had any idea how lucky they were. I wondered what she would say if she knew what Sean had done to Ryan and me. I wondered if she’d even care.

  Sarah stood at the sound of a teakettle whistle. She had put on the water, informing us that tea would be calming, and we could all use a little calm for this sort of conversation. She really was a sweet girl.

  “Joseph,” I looked to my husband’s doppelgänger, “did anyone give you a reason as to why you were taken? Did anyone suggest anything or ask you to do anything?”

  Joseph quickly looked to his mother, but then pulled away from her clutch, “No one would tell us. We asked, but no one said anything.”

  Anne Marie looked to me before responding. “I’m still trying to figure that out too, my love. The important thing is that you’re home, and you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

  Sarah set a cup of tea in front of all of us. I went to take a sip, but quickly stopped myself. I shouldn’t be drinking caffeine. “What kind of tea is this?”

  “Chamomile.” She smiled.

  “Wonderful. Thank you Sarah.” As I took a sip of the warming drink, I felt the tension of the room. I felt my mind spin with everything that had happened. I felt the overwhelming sense of guilt for bringing these two innocent children into my mess.

  “Grace, are you all right?” Sarah had put her hand on my knee. I didn’t realize I had been crying. They had nothing to do with this. They were blameless victims brought into this game only because Sean knew he had taken out any other players that might have been the least bit important to us.

  “Yes.” I nodded, placing my hand on hers. “I’m just happy you’re okay. The man who took you… or at least the man who told those two guys to take you… he’s not usually that… kind.”

  “You know him?”

  Up until then, Joseph and Sarah hadn’t been made aware of my part in all of this. Anne Marie simply told them my name, but nothing about their brother or our involvement with Sean. They didn’t know that I was the reason they were held in a basement for the better part of a week. The two of them stared at me, overly interested. There was something on their faces that I couldn’t read, something odd.

  “Yeah, I know him. He, um, well…” How could I explain our relationship? How could I tell them what he did to me? How I knew first hand that they were lucky to be alive? I felt my hand shake as I brought it to my neck. I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt, revealing the beginning of my scar. “He doesn’t always play fair.”

  When I looked up, Anne Marie was staring straight into my eyes. For the first time since she met me, I saw understanding and openness. Part of her even looked like she cared.

  “Grace… he did this… he did this to you?”

  I softly nodded.

  “Grace, I had no idea.” She uttered.

  “I didn’t expect you to.”

  “Did he? What else did he…?”

  She didn’t finish, but I also didn’t answer. I wasn’t there for a pity party. I wanted to run away. I wanted this to all be over.

  J
oseph looked to both of us. “Who? Who did that to you?”

  Anne Marie shook her head, and I didn’t answer him.

  Sarah stole my attention again. “Wait, who are you?”

  I looked to Sarah and Joseph and then to Anne Marie who this time nodded for me to continue. “Well, as you know, my name is Grace. I, um…” Did these kids even know about their mother’s life before she left James Cassidy? Did they know about motorcycle clubs? Did they know about the war between the Cupids and the Shadows? I had to assume not, considering the distain Anne Marie Carter felt toward it all. How could I simplify my involvement so they would understand? “My husband and I had a pretty bad run in with this man, and most likely one of the young men who took you from your school. We thought it was over, but apparently we were mistaken. Unfortunately, he used you two and your mother to lure us out of hiding, so to speak.”

  “Why did he want you back? And why did he think he could use us? We’ve never met you before, have we? How could we lure you out of hiding?” Sarah’s voice cracked.

  “No, not me. And I don’t believe you met my husband, but his name is Ryan Cassidy.” I didn’t know where to go from there. I shot my eyes toward Anne Marie, who took a breath and continued.

  “Ryan is my son. He was raised by his father. James Cassidy.”

  Joseph and Sarah stared at their mother in shock. The room was silent; no one knew what to say next. Sarah was the first one to break. “So what does this mean exactly?”

  “Well,” I tried to offer a smile, “it means you have a brother, well, a half brother. But mostly it means that we’re going to make sure S--”

  I stopped. I couldn’t think. My eyes blinked and I swallowed hard. “What… What?”

  Sarah guided my head down until it hit the couch pillow. She looked into my eyes. “I’m sorry, Grace.”

  “Why?” I managed to squeak out.

  “I had to protect my family. I had to.”

  I slowly nodded, vaguely understanding what was about to happen. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything except hear his voice.

  “Oh good, my Gracie is back.”

  Ryan

  “Okay, which ever one of you fuckers is working with my uncle, just fess up now.”

  I didn’t want to play games. I wanted to get in and get out. I wanted to find him, kill him, and get on with my life with Grace and our baby. I wanted the whole mess with Sean to be over.

  “Is that shithead bothering you again?”

  “I told you guys we should have kept a tail on him.”

  “You think it’s one of us?”

  “We would never do that to you.”

  Those were the normal, expected responses to my command, but it didn’t matter. The purpose of my outburst was simple: I wanted the culprit to know I was onto him. I explained to the group what had happened and how I would be handling it from now on. They were both happy to see me and pissed that there was a traitor among the club members. Suspicions flew, each member approaching me separately to assure me that they would never betray my trust in such a way. The thing was, those guys were my family. I knew them all better than I knew myself, and what I was truly aware of was when one of them was lying to me. But every single promise made to me that day was genuine: at least they seemed genuine. I was beginning to think I was wrong, that there wasn’t a conspirator among the Cupids. I beat myself up: how could I have so simply jumped to the conclusion that one of those guys would turn their back on me, on their family? It was silly, really: unnatural even. But just as I had settled with the possibility that I had overreacted, I received a text from Grace.

  Whatever you did, it worked. The kids are back at home. We’re heading over there now. I’m going with Anne Marie; as promised, I’m not letting her out of my sight. Here’s the address:

  So Sean knew I was definitely back, and the only people I had seen since I arrived were club members. It could only mean that one of these guys ratted me out. Someone in that room was against me. How could I trust any of them?

  “Rocky, can I talk to you?”

  We moved into the corner, where I explained the text I had just received from Grace and the conclusion I drew from it.

  “I have to go. I have to keep an eye on them; make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

  “I understand, man. Do what you do.” Rocky patted me on the back. “Hey, listen, if you need a break, I’d be happy to swing over there and keep an eye on things for a time.”

  “I really appreciate that, but I don’t want to put you and Becky out.”

  “Eh, Beck’s been itchin’ to do something. She’s going a little stir crazy being trapped in the house with all the kids, including the one she’s growing.” He laughed at his little joke. “But seriously, man, it would be no problem at all.”

  I threw my arm around him. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

  “Nothing yet, but I’ll be sure to let you know when I’m ready to cash in.”

  With that, I shook my head and moved toward the door. I thanked the group for their continued loyalty and told them I’d see them soon. I wasn’t completely sure if it was true, but it was the polite thing to do, and aside from the mystery betrayer, I had no reason to offer anything but a polite goodbye.

  Rocky walked me to the door. “Hey Ryan.”

  “What’s up?”

  He slowly lifted his 9mm handgun from the band of his pants and placed it in my hands. “Just be careful, okay?”

  I gave him a knowing nod. I really didn’t know what I was getting into; this weapon might very well be necessary. “Thanks Rock”

  I climbed into the car and hinted at a salute in his direction, to which he responded accordingly. As I revved the engine and pulled onto the road in the direction of the address Grace had sent me, I began to realize how little I knew of Sean’s reason for pulling us back here.

  Why? Why was it necessary for us to be here? If he wanted us dead, why didn’t he just kill us in California? He knew where we lived; it would have been all too easy. And now that my mother was handed her children back, what were we supposed to do? Were we supposed to stay, wait for direction? Were we supposed to act like everything had gone back to normal? And what was Anne Marie Carter supposed to do? Was she supposed to act like none of this had happened, that her life wasn’t turned upside down over the past week? What was Sean Cassidy’s plan?

  I blankly turned down the familiar street, looking around at the trees that lined the sidewalks. Thirteen blocks. My mother lived only thirteen blocks from where I had grown up. How was she so close, and yet so far for so long? How had she been able to walk out her door every morning knowing that her son was only minutes away? How did she ignore that?

  I didn’t owe her anything, and yet I was offering to watch over her and keep her safe until this situation with Sean was resolved. What the hell was wrong with me?

  I climbed the steps to the house and shook my head before knocking on the door. As my knuckle hit the wood, the door swung into the darkened house.

  “Grace? Grace, are you here?”

  No answer. I rechecked my text from her. This was definitely the right address. I took a step inside and noticed her jacket hanging on an old coatrack. She had to be here. I turned the corner into the living room and noticed four teacups sitting on the coffee table. Why had they all left their full cups of tea? What would cause… Unless…

  It was a trap. The whole thing was a trap. He had outsmarted us again; how did we let him do that? And where was Grace now? Why did I leave her? How did he know it would play out this way?

  I raced back out of the front door, to the car. I didn’t have any idea where I was going, but standing in an empty house was getting me nowhere. As I turned the key, I noticed the small piece of lined paper flapping under my windshield wipers. I reached my hand around and slid the note to freedom.

  Ryan,

  Go home. And don’t worry: it’s not over yet.

  ~S

&
nbsp; I had just missed them. My wife was gone.

  Grace

  I could hear mumbling. It was quiet and I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but someone was definitely talking.

  My eyes wouldn’t open; they were so heavy. I fought my lids, begging them to rise so I could see my surroundings, but they wouldn’t budge. Or was that…? It was a blindfold. I couldn’t see because I was blindfolded.

  Smell. It was damp and musty: like dirt. Were we in a basement?

  I tried to wiggle my fingers. They were slow, but they were moving. I felt… my lap. My hands were in my lap. There was some sort of twine or rope around my wrists… and my ankles. They were tied together too. I was seated on the cold ground, but I didn’t think I was bound to anything. Could I stand? No. In my effort to move, I felt the floor slam across my face. It was dirt. The floor was dirt.

  I opened my mouth to speak. In my head I heard my groan, but my tongue kicked against some sort of gag. Even if I could scream, it would be muffled. No one would be able to hear me.

  I was lying on the cold ground, bound, blindfolded, and gagged. Welcome home to me.